Numbing Snow
Title: Numbing Snow
Author: ChipsAhoypup
Pairing: LightxL
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I don’t own Death Note.
Warning: Major fluff.
Snow… According to Wilson Bentley, every snowflake is different. When you put it under a microscope, there will never be one flake that looks exactly like another.
Rain. Snow is only rain that has sat in a cloud with a temperature of -35 degrees Celsius or lower. So does that make rain like snow? Does that mean that every drop of rain is different, an extraordinary individual?
Maybe it is. But rain is nicer, more true. Rain is what it is. When you look at rain, you simply see a droplet of water. And that’s just what it is. Nothing more to it.
But when you look at snow, you see a breathtaking white. It’s beautiful, the type of thing that you can’t resist playing around in, whether it be rolling in it, throwing it at others, or just plain treading through it.
Snow is beautiful on the outside. When you look out your window on a winter day and see nothing but white, obscuring your vision of the grass that had been there previously, you instantly feel elated, excited.
But snow is nothing more than frozen particles of that disgusting thing called rain.
On the inside, past all the beauty, is ice. When you touch snow, you don’t feel the warmth that you feel when you first look at it. All you feel is cold. It’s cold to the touch, through and through. Sometimes it’s so cold and you endure it for so long that it numbs you. It takes away all feeling in your limb, sometimes even permanently removes every nerve in it.
And yet, despite all the pain, you don’t want to break away from it. It’s too beautiful to just walk away from it, go back to the boring world of plain, green grass, of horrid, dark rain.
Then again, maybe rain does bring beauty, although not in itself. It brings beauty to the world around it, by making plants grow larger and flowers bloom nicer. By bringing more color to the world. And in doing so, rain itself is ugly. When one looks at rain, one instantly connects it with depression or anger. And when one looks at snow, one connects it to happiness and the holidays.
And yet…, rain and snow are the same. Although one is true, good, and disgusting on the outside, and one is false, evil, and yet beautiful on the outside… They’re both just water.
“Ryuzaki, what are you doing standing out there by yourself?”
…During the bad times, I feel that the emotional feelings of depression would be no different than literally standing in the rain. The ugly, horrible, disgusting rain. Feeling it soak my hair, flatten the messy spikes down so that it hangs to the sides of my cheeks, clinging stubbornly to my flesh. Feeling it soak through my clothes, tighten them, make them uncomfortable to stand in.
And so I do. I stand in the rain. Memories of the first day I came to the orphanage that changed my life flit through the surface of my brain. That first day… snow. It was snowing. It made it seem like the orphanage would be a beautiful place, made everything seem like it would be okay.
But of course not. Snow may look harmless, make the atmosphere look melancholy. But on the inside… it’s ice. Just ice. And nothing more.
“Ryuzaki, what are you doing standing out there by yourself?”
As the memories haunted my brain, I realized that I had placed my hand next to my ear. Twice now. Pretending I couldn’t hear him over the sound of the rain, obnoxiously pounding against the pavement all around me, drowning out almost all sounds.
Looking fed up, he tried to block the rain from getting in his eyes, flinching as he walked into the rain. Him. My own snow. So beautiful on the outside… and so very dangerous on the inside.
I loved him for his beauty, for his false passion, for those fake smiles he’d flash at me that made everything seem okay. I loved him for everything that was fake. For the mask he covered himself with so desperately, the one that completely prevented anyone from seeing his true personality. I doubt his own parents even know how cold he really was on the inside.
He was the type of person that no one touched. Everyone would watch him from a distance, admire him, respect him. But they’d never get close enough to touch him, to realize that he was not the warm person he led everyone on to think he was.
No. Light Yagami is as cold as ice.
And he has numbed me completely.
Author: ChipsAhoypup
Pairing: LightxL
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I don’t own Death Note.
Warning: Major fluff.
Snow… According to Wilson Bentley, every snowflake is different. When you put it under a microscope, there will never be one flake that looks exactly like another.
Rain. Snow is only rain that has sat in a cloud with a temperature of -35 degrees Celsius or lower. So does that make rain like snow? Does that mean that every drop of rain is different, an extraordinary individual?
Maybe it is. But rain is nicer, more true. Rain is what it is. When you look at rain, you simply see a droplet of water. And that’s just what it is. Nothing more to it.
But when you look at snow, you see a breathtaking white. It’s beautiful, the type of thing that you can’t resist playing around in, whether it be rolling in it, throwing it at others, or just plain treading through it.
Snow is beautiful on the outside. When you look out your window on a winter day and see nothing but white, obscuring your vision of the grass that had been there previously, you instantly feel elated, excited.
But snow is nothing more than frozen particles of that disgusting thing called rain.
On the inside, past all the beauty, is ice. When you touch snow, you don’t feel the warmth that you feel when you first look at it. All you feel is cold. It’s cold to the touch, through and through. Sometimes it’s so cold and you endure it for so long that it numbs you. It takes away all feeling in your limb, sometimes even permanently removes every nerve in it.
And yet, despite all the pain, you don’t want to break away from it. It’s too beautiful to just walk away from it, go back to the boring world of plain, green grass, of horrid, dark rain.
Then again, maybe rain does bring beauty, although not in itself. It brings beauty to the world around it, by making plants grow larger and flowers bloom nicer. By bringing more color to the world. And in doing so, rain itself is ugly. When one looks at rain, one instantly connects it with depression or anger. And when one looks at snow, one connects it to happiness and the holidays.
And yet…, rain and snow are the same. Although one is true, good, and disgusting on the outside, and one is false, evil, and yet beautiful on the outside… They’re both just water.
“Ryuzaki, what are you doing standing out there by yourself?”
…During the bad times, I feel that the emotional feelings of depression would be no different than literally standing in the rain. The ugly, horrible, disgusting rain. Feeling it soak my hair, flatten the messy spikes down so that it hangs to the sides of my cheeks, clinging stubbornly to my flesh. Feeling it soak through my clothes, tighten them, make them uncomfortable to stand in.
And so I do. I stand in the rain. Memories of the first day I came to the orphanage that changed my life flit through the surface of my brain. That first day… snow. It was snowing. It made it seem like the orphanage would be a beautiful place, made everything seem like it would be okay.
But of course not. Snow may look harmless, make the atmosphere look melancholy. But on the inside… it’s ice. Just ice. And nothing more.
“Ryuzaki, what are you doing standing out there by yourself?”
As the memories haunted my brain, I realized that I had placed my hand next to my ear. Twice now. Pretending I couldn’t hear him over the sound of the rain, obnoxiously pounding against the pavement all around me, drowning out almost all sounds.
Looking fed up, he tried to block the rain from getting in his eyes, flinching as he walked into the rain. Him. My own snow. So beautiful on the outside… and so very dangerous on the inside.
I loved him for his beauty, for his false passion, for those fake smiles he’d flash at me that made everything seem okay. I loved him for everything that was fake. For the mask he covered himself with so desperately, the one that completely prevented anyone from seeing his true personality. I doubt his own parents even know how cold he really was on the inside.
He was the type of person that no one touched. Everyone would watch him from a distance, admire him, respect him. But they’d never get close enough to touch him, to realize that he was not the warm person he led everyone on to think he was.
No. Light Yagami is as cold as ice.
And he has numbed me completely.